


Just a stupid dream

by torestoreamends



Category: Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Angst, Fill in Scene, Gen, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Pre-Beautiful Hill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 12:26:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18992641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torestoreamends/pseuds/torestoreamends
Summary: Harry doesn't realise that Albus has been having nightmares about the events of Hallow's Eve until the Christmas holidays. He's woken in the night by Albus's whimpers, and he can't not go and try to help.





	Just a stupid dream

**Author's Note:**

> A friend was wondering what would happen the first time Harry hears Albus having a nightmare about everything that happens, and this is the result. I accidentally wrote this instead of my Cast Four recap, but it's heavily inspired by Dom's Albus and Jamie B's Harry, so I hope it's an okay substitute...

Harry doesn’t know what wakes him at first. He’s so exhausted that his eyes are painful to open, sticky with sleep and heavy. 

Everything is dark and quiet. The night has the sort of softness that suggests there’s snow on the ground outside. There was a blizzard earlier, and the thick blanket of snow on the ground reduces sound to a quiet crunch, and turns the light golden orange. 

For a second, Harry thinks he’s imagined whatever it was that woke him. The house is very still, even though it’s full for the Christmas holidays. Everyone else must be asleep. Beside him, Ginny’s breathing is slow and regular. 

Even though she’s mostly a blur without his glasses, he manages to reach across and brush a strand of hair off her cheek. He just about sees her lips twitch into the hint of a smile, and he settles down to go back to sleep. That’s when he hears it.

It’s not a scream. It’s not even really a shout. It’s a whimper, like someone or something in pain. 

Harry sits up and puts his glasses on, the back of his neck prickling. Sometimes they get animals in the garden. Maybe the foxes are back and having a fight. But it doesn’t sound like it’s coming from the garden. It sounds like it’s coming from inside the house. 

He stays very still, listening, and for a few very long heartbeats there’s complete silence. Then he hears something else. Moaned words. 

“No. No no. Stop, please.”

Harry swallows and glances at Ginny, who is still fast asleep. He reaches across and nudges her arm. 

“Gin.”

She groans and buries her face in the pillow.

“Gin, wake up.” Harry shakes her arm, and she grunts and slowly lifts her head, blinking blearily at him.

“Harry. Are you okay?” She rubs her eyes and pushes her hair off her face. “Not another nightmare?”

Harry shakes his head. “Can you hear-” He puts a finger to his lips and they listen to the silence until they hear another of the pained whimpers in the distance.

Ginny blinks, expression suddenly sharp. “Yes,” she says, then she points upwards. “Albus. He told me — maybe he didn’t tell you. He has nightmares. About everything that happened.”

Harry stares at her. “And you’re not going to do anything about it?”

“There’s nothing he’d let me do. He didn’t want a fuss about it. At school they suggested a Sleeping Draught, but...” She gives a forlorn shrug. “I think he’s hoping they’ll eventually just go away.” 

Another moan of fear comes floating out of the darkness and Harry holds his hands up and shakes his head as he backs off the bed to his feet. “No. No, I’m not letting that happen. I can’t just go back to sleep, when-” He gestures to the ceiling and shakes his head again. “No way.”

“Harry...” She reaches for his hand and catches hold of it. “I don’t know if he wants...” She trails off, and he can only assume the last, unsaid word. It makes him pause but it doesn’t stop him completely. 

“Gin... This whole thing. It’s because of me. I have to at least try. I want him to know that... that he doesn’t have to do this on his own. Is that wrong?”

She sighs and shakes her head, giving him a very small smile. “No. I don’t think so. Go on.”

He kisses her knuckles then lets go of her hand. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be back soon.”

She nods. “Good luck.”

He runs his fingers over the back of his hand and bows his head, squaring his shoulders. “Thanks.”

As he leaves the room he hears the rustle of sheets as she rolls over, but he can’t imagine how she’s going to manage to go back to sleep. 

He pads up the stairs to Albus’s room in the attic with barely a creak. The door is slightly ajar so he can see in. Albus is asleep on top of his blankets, still wearing his jeans and green hoodie, bathed in a pool of light from the lamp by his bed. He looks like someone who has resisted sleep for as long as he can, but ultimately, unwillingly, succumbed. 

His hood is half up, almost covering his head, but Harry can see a messy tuft of jet black hair sticking out. Albus’s arms are crossed tight across his chest, his shoulders tense and drawn up almost to his ears. Although Harry can’t see his face, he can only assume that it’s as screwed up with fear as the rest of him. He keeps thrashing from side to side, feet kicking, breath coming shallow and fast. 

“Albus,” Harry murmurs, nudging the door open. 

Albus rolls over so his back is to Harry, one of his arms flying out to grip the corner of his pillow. He holds on tight enough for his knuckles to go white, and Harry pushes the door the rest of the way open.

“Albus,” he says louder, stepping across the threshold.

“No,” Albus whimpers into the pillow. “No. Stop. Please.” The last word comes out as a desperate sob, and the sound of it echoes in Harry’s heart, shattering the last of his inhibitions. 

He rushes across and perches on the edge of Albus’s bed, reaching across to put a gentle hand on his shoulder. Albus twitches under his touch, flinching further away, but Harry tightens his grip.

“Albus,” he says urgently, giving his son a little shake. “Albus, wake up. It’s a dream. You’re safe. Come on.”

He can feel the tension in every fibre of Albus’s body. He can feel how fast his heart is pounding. He can feel every snatched breath and terrified shudder. 

“Albus, please,” Harry begs, shaking him harder. “Wake up.”

“No,” Albus sobs. “Don’t. I- No.” He wrenches free of Harry’s grip, rolling away across the bed, where he overbalances and tips over the side. He lands on the floor with a heavy thud, letting out a scream that pierces the quiet night and rips straight through Harry. As he jerks awake the scream dies, and he scrabbles upright, pressing his back to the wall and staring around wild-eyed with fear. He’s breathing far too fast, only getting the barest of snatches into his chest. 

Harry vaults across the bed and slithers onto the floor opposite Albus, reaching across to put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay. You’re safe. It was just a dream. I’ve got you. Just breathe.”

Albus’s eyes are an unfocused blur of tears and terror. It takes him a second to lock onto Harry’s face, and when he does he scrambles further into the corner, wrapping his hoodie around himself and bowing his head to hide his face.

“Dad, I- I’m fine. Just a stupid dream. You don’t need to-” He wipes his sleeve across his eyes and looks pointedly at the opposite wall. 

“Albus,” Harry breathes, and there must be something in his voice that makes Albus listen, because he lifts his head and looks round, face in shadow. “I know...” He reaches out for Albus, then decides against it and clenches his fist in his lap, swallowing. “I heard you shouting. And your mum told me about the nightmares. She said you didn’t want us to make a fuss, but... When I wake up from a nightmare and I’m on my own it’s horrible. I don’t know where I am, or... And I don’t know what yours are like, but I didn’t want that for you. I-I wanted to be here. I hope that’s... I hope that’s okay.”

Albus pulls his knees up to his chest and runs a hand through his messy hair. It doesn’t help, it just sticks up worse. He rests his chin on his knees and his breathing seems to calm slightly as he hugs himself and stares into space, not acknowledging Harry’s words or his presence.

“I can go,” Harry murmurs, after almost half a minute has passed, and he starts to get up, but that’s when Albus finally looks up at him and shakes his head. 

“No,” he says, hoarse and shaky, a little bit desperate. “Stay. Please?”

Harry sits straight back down on the floor, crossing his legs. “I’m here.”

“Okay,” Albus whispers. Then he buries his face in his knees and draws in several long, deep breaths.

Harry doesn’t do anything except sit there and watch. He wants to shift across next to Albus and put an arm round him, but he doesn’t think that would be appreciated. In the end all he does is reach out and rest a hand on Albus’s shin. Albus sucks in a breath in response, then finally lifts his head. 

“I didn’t want you to think that I wasn’t, you know.” He shrugs and stares down at his knees. “Handling it. Everything.”

“Handling it,” Harry breathes. “Albus. You’re not supposed to be- She tortured you and Scorpius. She murdered one of your classmates. You watched your grandparents-” He shakes his head and reaches desperately out to Albus. “I didn’t expect- You don’t have to do this alone.”

Albus unfolds his arms and adjusts his hoodie, shrugging it properly onto his shoulders. “But-” He holds his hands up to stop Harry interrupting. “But I thought you might be... I don’t know... Disappointed.” He says the last word so quietly, losing steam even as it comes out of his mouth. “Okay, it sounds stupid when I say it like that. But I’ve always been so inadequate, and you’ve always been so...” He gestures to Harry, up and down. “Difficult. And this. This is...” He shrugs. “I don’t even know what this is. It’s just another thing. Harry Potter’s disappointing son. Scared of his own shadow. Tried to save the world, fucked it up. It’s all my fault. I made my own nightmares.”

Harry stares hopelessly at him, not sure what to say, and apparently he’s silent for too long because Albus smiles a bitter smile and nods. 

“See? It’s true. You can’t even say that it’s not.”

“Albus,” Harry breathes. 

Albus gets to his feet. “Honestly, Dad. I’m fine. You should probably leave me alone now. Go back to bed.”

Harry shakes his head and gets up too, resolve flooding through him. “No. I’m not giving up that easily. Let’s talk about this.”

Albus groans. “There’s nothing to talk about. And it’s the middle of the night.”

“Are you going back to sleep any time soon?” Harry challenges him.

Albus says nothing, but twists his hands together. 

“Good,” Harry says. “Because I’m not either. So we’ve got plenty of time.” He points to the bed. “Sit down, Albus.”

“If you’re just here to order me about, then you can get out of my room.”

Harry holds his hand up. “So we’ll stand. But we are talking about this. So.”

Albus crosses his arms and glares at Harry. “So.” His face is still red from crying. There’s a line down his cheek where one of the toggles on his hoodie has been trapped beneath him while he was sleeping. 

“I have nightmares,” Harry says, and Albus immediately rolls his eyes.

“Everyone knows, Dad. Big news. Harry Potter and his nightmares.”

“I have nightmares,” Harry repeats, with more force. “About my parents dying. And about Voldemort. And sometimes. Sometimes I have nightmares about you. About you dying. About you disappearing. About you getting lost in time. And in case you’re wondering why I’m telling you that, it’s because if there’s one thing that’s always helped me, it’s telling people what’s going on.”

Albus eyes him, jaw tight, gaze dark and suspicious.

“I learned that the hard way,” Harry continues. “I think I’m still learning it now. And maybe it won’t be the same for you, but a problem shared is a problem halved. You don’t have to do this alone. You can talk to me, or to your mum, or anyone else. But please don’t keep it to yourself, Albus. It’ll make everything so much worse.”

Albus looks at him, jaw working, shoulders tight. For a second he says nothing, then he takes a breath. He hesitates, opens his mouth, and finally speaks. “I... I keep seeing her torturing Scorpius. She’s using Crucio on him, and he’s screaming, and... And she’s holding me, making me look. Her wand is right there.” He gestures beside his head. “It feels like I’m the one who’s... And I know I’m not, but...”

He swallows and scuffs his foot on the ground. “She’s holding me by the hair, and it really hurts, and I want her to stop. What she’s doing to Scorpius is so much worse, but I can’t stop thinking about how much it hurts me, and I... I think I’m just a selfish person. Scorpius has nightmares about his mum dying, and how Delphi nearly killed him, and all I can dream about is how much _him_ being tortured hurts _me_.” He shakes his head and stares down at the floor. 

Harry clasps his hands together and takes a step towards Albus, almost but not quite within touching distance of him. “You watched your best friend be tortured in front of you,” he says, imploring Albus to listen to him. “You’ve been traumatised. You shouldn’t feel guilty about that.”

Albus glances up, a twisted, bitter little smile on his face. “You do.”

“And do you think I’m a good example?” Harry asks. 

Albus snorts and shakes his head. “Merlin, no.”

“Exactly. I’m glad we can agree on that at least.”

Albus sighs and runs a hand through his hair, then sinks onto the edge of the bed. “So what do you do? How do you deal with it?”

Harry hesitates before sitting next to him. He half expects Albus to jump back up again, but he doesn’t seem to mind Harry being there. It seems like a good sign.

“I talk to someone smarter and wiser than me. Your mum. Hermione. Ron. Someone I can trust. And they normally tell me that I’m being stupid.”

Albus braces his hands on the edge of the bed and rounds his shoulders up by his ears. “I’d talk to Scorpius. But he has his own problems, and it’s the middle of the night.” For a second he stares at his knees, then he looks across at Harry. “I suppose I’m already talking to you. And I... I trust you, so...”

A warm glow blossoms in Harry’s chest, spreading through him, happiness like sunshine or firelight on a winter’s evening. He reaches out and puts a hand on Albus’s arm, and Albus turns towards him.

“What do you think?”

“I think,” Harry says carefully, trying not to sound as choked up as he suddenly feels. “I think that you’ve survived a whole lot more than you should have had to. And I think that none of this is your fault. I know it’s hard, not to blame yourself, but there are a lot of people who should have done a much better job of looking after you. Myself included. And I think that you have nothing to be ashamed of, and that you couldn’t be further from a disappointment if you tried. I’m very proud of you, Albus. And some day, somehow, things are going to be okay for you. More than okay.”

Albus looks at him. “Really?”

Harry nods. “Really really.”

Albus holds his gaze for a second, as if seeing the belief in Harry’s eyes will help him believe it himself. Then he glances around. “I suppose I should try and go back to sleep. Since it’s the middle of the night. And you should too.”

“Will you be okay?”

Albus shrugs. “We’ll find out, won’t we?” He looks at his pyjamas, which are discarded at the foot of his bed, and seems to decide they aren’t worth the effort, because he peels back his blankets and starts crawling under them.

Harry holds the covers out of the way for him and tucks him in. “Is that alright?”

Albus nods. “Yeah. Don’t bother with the light. I’d rather have it on. And Dad?”

“Yes, Albus?”

Albus looks up at him from beneath the folds of the blanket. He looks small and scared and tired. “Will you stay until I’m asleep?” 

Harry perches on the bed next to him and rubs his shoulder. “Course I will.”

Albus exhales a puff of air and relaxes into the bed. “Good,” he murmurs. As he closes his eyes, Harry leans down and kisses the top of his head. 

Normally he’d expect Albus to swat him away, but today a small smile curls across Albus’s lips, so Harry kisses him again, then a third time. Only then does Albus grumble and hide his face in the pillow. Harry takes the hint and pulls back, ruffling his hair. Albus sighs softly, and he curls a hand around the corner of his blanket, pulling it against his chest. 

It’s been a long time since Harry got to sit and watch his son fall asleep. He hasn’t been welcome in this room for a long time, and Albus wouldn’t have trusted him like this since... Maybe since he started Hogwarts. Maybe even earlier than that. It’s been years, and Harry has missed it desperately. 

He’s missed the quiet sense of trust. He’s missed the way Albus’s breathing softens, and the slight snuffling sound he makes in his sleep — not quite a snore, but somewhere close. He’s missed the way Albus relaxes, all the wound up tension of his body melting away into sleep. He’s missed how peaceful Albus looks, like he doesn’t have a care in the world. It’s beautiful, and Harry can’t help but stare, trying to drink it all in. If there’s one thing he’s learned recently, it’s that he can’t take a second spent with Albus for granted. 

It doesn’t take long until Albus is fast asleep. When he’s in a deep sleep nothing will wake him, but even so, Harry tries to be completely silent as he presses one last whisper of a kiss to Albus’s temple, gets to his feet, and tiptoes out of the room. He pulls the door to behind him and creeps down the stairs. 

At the bottom he stops and grips the bannister, composing himself as the magnitude of everything that’s just happened overwhelms him. Albus talked to him, Albus trusts him, Albus fell asleep with him. It’s nothing big, but it feels like a whole world of hope has just opened up around him. Maybe what he told Albus is true. Somehow, some day, everything is going to be okay. 

He takes a shaky breath, checks that Lily and James are both still sound asleep, then tiptoes back to bed. It’s no surprise when Ginny rolls over and takes his hand as he lies down.

“Alright?” She murmurs.

“I-“ He doesn’t know how to explain any of it to her, so he kisses her fingers and squeezes her hand tight between both of his. 

She gives him a sleepy smile. “Good. Is he asleep?”

“Yeah. I think he was tired.”

“I’m not surprised.” 

“Gin...” He hesitates. “He talked to me.”

Her smile widens and she opens her eyes and looks at him properly. “That’s very good news.”

Harry nods. “It is. It really is.”

Ginny brushes a hand through his hair, then leans across and kisses him on the lips. “I’m proud of you both.”

“We’re getting there,” Harry murmurs. “I think.”

“I _know_ ,” she says. She kisses him again and squeezes his hands, then she draws him closer, into a one-armed hug.

Harry kisses her on the cheek and settles down. He’s exhausted, eyes fluttering closed, even though part of him wants to stay awake and savour the moment. It’s impossible, though. He finds himself drifting off, not into nightmares but into warm comfort. Maybe in the morning this is what he’ll tell Albus. 

Life has its ups and downs, but it gets better. Happiness creeps up on you out of nowhere, when you least expect it. And after every nightmare is a new day. 


End file.
